


burn in hell

by ZOMBIEDOG



Series: GIFT FICS [28]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Gift Fic, Other, also spoilers for That Scene in rhodes, but also canon divergence bc he deserved better, no fucking clue what this fic is doing but its Happening, there was an attempt, yall know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZOMBIEDOG/pseuds/ZOMBIEDOG
Summary: an open note to the town i left behind to rot
Relationships: Sean MacGuire/Reader, Sean MacGuire/You
Series: GIFT FICS [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1190569
Kudos: 37





	burn in hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annoying_kuriboh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annoying_kuriboh/gifts).



Death was supposed to be painless. It was supposed to be peaceful and accepting. This was not death. This was pain and agony and burning. This darkness was not kind and welcoming, it was cold and terrible and if this was what would greet everyone in the end, he could only hope man would live for eternity. He could hear a faded voice yelling and the distinct sound of hooves pounding against the earth. Who was yelling? Why? What need was there to yell, when there was only darkness? Why?

Soon, he was alone with nothing but the darkness. It hurt to move. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. Why did it hurt? He could feel the sunshine on his eyelids, could feel the warmth bathing him in its soft glow, and he felt for a moment that he wasn't shivering, he wasn't freezing, he was warm. Warm. He was warm. A new warmth was on his ar, and then under his arm. He felt the sensation of his body being lifted. He was being moved. Why? Why, why, why? Why was he being moved? Wasn't he dead?

And then, a different kind of darkness. This one a once familiar friend, elusive until he would drink himself into a stupor, stumbling about and shouting like a fool. In this darkness, there was no sense of time, no true sensation at all, only the comforting unknown. Sleep. He was sleeping. When would he wake? Would he wake? Did he want to? No more contemplation, only the darkness. Sleep.

He did awake. With fluttering eyes and the sun dancing across his skin, he tried to take in the world around him. This wasn't Rhodes, this wasn't camp, this wasn't anywhere familiar. Where was he? Where, where, where? This wasn't familiar, yet he felt safe. Was he? He didn't know. All he could remember was the sound of the gunshot and a horrible, burning, searing pain. And then darkness. The voices. The gang. They left him behind. They abandoned him. Yet... here he was, alive and hidden away in a strangers' home. A stranger aided him when his own gang left him behind.

The sound of soft footsteps and a quiet humming brought him from his thoughts, his groggy gaze dragged to the doorway of the small room, and there you stood in the filtered sunlight, an angel sent straight from God to aid him. And an angel you must have been, to have cared enough about a stranger to bring him into your home. n angel you must have been, to take him in when his own gang abandoned him. And thus, an angel you became in his mind.

And as you silently tended to his wounds, as you fed him and cared for him, comforted him while he cried and tried to soothe his pain, tried to make him laugh when he cried, he felt cared for. He felt loved, and safe, and protected. He felt like he belonged like he was wanted like you wouldn't abandon him too. And when he was well enough to move around on his own, you never once questioned him when he asked you to help him write. And he wrote a letter. A farewell letter.

A goodbye to Tacitus Kilgore, a belated pardon and kick to the ass, a last 'fuck you' to the gang that abandoned him. The last thank you to those who had truly saved him, once upon a time. A final goodbye.

"Farewell," he wrote, "rot in hell"


End file.
